


Christmas Recruit

by shutterbug



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holidays, Presents, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutterbug/pseuds/shutterbug
Summary: On Christmas Day, Edmund and Jane exchange gifts.
Relationships: Jane Cobden/Edmund Reid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Christmas Recruit

**Author's Note:**

> For the whole Ripper Street fandom, but especially for: treasuredthings, who adores Christmas-anything (and I owe her a Christmas fic); omg-okimhere, who loves dogs and is responsible for the name of the dog in this fic; and celestial-soot, who also loves dogs. This is pure tooth-rotting fluff. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to anyone and everyone who reads. I hope y'all have a lovely holiday season! Much love to you!

Edmund was rather pleased with himself. Pleased, because he had planned a spectacular Christmas display of affection and appreciation for Jane, and all without assistance. 

He rose early, crept to the kitchen, and crafted a breakfast fit for the divine. An omelette. Fresh fruit that he had purchased at market and hidden away the previous day. Cured meat and three varieties of cheese. And, finally, scones he had baked himself. Cranberry and orange. Jane’s favorite. 

And due to his perfectly-executed breakfast-in-bed, they both enjoyed a long, pleasurable morning. Jane bestowed upon him strawberry flavored kisses. Touched him with hands as warm as the almond-raspberry tea he’d prepared for her. In the distance, church bells tolled to call the faithful to mass on Christmas Day. But Jane set her food aside and parted her legs for him--allowed him to worship before the only altar at which he cared to kneel. And once he brought her to the height of her pleasure, he presented her with her final gift, leaning on one elbow as she smiled, her cheeks still flushed, and tore off its wrapping. 

Joy crashed through his chest when she took her gift from its box and, with an even deeper blush, fastened them--Edmund had no other word--to her ears. She turned her head to the right, then the left, so that he could see both ears, newly adorned, then reached for his hand. 

“They’re gorgeous,” she said, squeezing one hand and cupping the base of his head with the other, her fingers toying with his hair. “Thank you.” 

“They’re sapphires.” 

“Yes, I know.” 

“Your birthstone.” 

She dropped a kiss on his lips and let her mouth linger close to his as she replied, “I know that, too.” 

“They match your eyes.”

“They match yours as well,” she said, tracing his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. Then she flashed a playful grin and quirked her eyebrows as she pulled at his earlobe. “Perhaps you should wear them.” 

He could not help the smile that spread across his face and the laugh that skittered out of him. His love for her formed a tight knot in his chest, and he reached for her, wanting to hold her close to him, cover her with kisses, and express the warm adoration that filled him. 

But she moved away from him and slid off the bed. “I have a gift for you,” she said, her smile bright and broad. She dressed quickly and, as she searched for her shoes, added, “But I must fetch it.” 

“Fetch it?” he asked, watching her head for the door. 

She paused there, blowing him a kiss from the threshold. “I will return with as much speed as I can, I promise.” 

And before he could stop her, she left. A floor below, the door closed, and he was left in bed. Naked. And less pleased with himself than he had been only a couple hours previous. 

As he dressed and waited for her to return, he wracked his brain to imagine what Jane now retrieved. He set himself to cleaning their breakfast dishes, making the bed, and starting a fire. Then he waited. 

And waited. 

He threw himself onto the sofa in front of the fire, opened a book, and waited some more. 

His eyes traversed the same line of text for the seventeenth time when he finally heard the door open. 

Snapping his book closed, he propelled himself out of the chair, but froze when Jane’s voice shouted from the hallway: “Edmund, I heard you in there! You sit back down!” 

He sat back down. 

But his suspicions rose, and he locked his eyes onto the empty doorway, waiting for Jane to appear. 

He could not, despite his attempt to bite his lip, contain his laughter when Jane inched into the doorway with an awkward shuffle, her back turned to him. 

“Jane,” he said, still breathing huffs of laughter. “What on earth—” 

“Close your eyes!” she insisted. 

Without obeying, he replied, “All right. Eyes are closed.”

“They are not.” 

He shook his head, smiling. “Am I that predictable?”

“Yes, now close your eyes.” 

He released an amused but defeated sigh, then closed his eyes. “Right.  _ Now  _ they are closed.” 

Then confusion set in—odd sounds filled the room. An unfamiliar rustle. A soft, rolling stomping. And a sharp yip, which made him open his eyes—he could not help it—to find a brown and black puppy standing on its four paws in the middle of the carpet. Its tail whipped back and forth. Its little pink tongue dangled out of its mouth. Its enormous upright ears were turned toward him, alert. And it stared up at him, as if it were waiting for him to respond to it. 

Jane scooped the puppy into her arms and presented it properly. “This is Evie.” Evie strained in her arms, trying to reach him, licking at the air. 

“Evie?”

She shrugged. “I chose her on Christmas Eve.”

“Ah.”

“I think she already likes you,” she said, moving Evie closer to his face, which the puppy licked with a long, chameleon-like flick of its tongue. He did not find it as delightful as Jane, who giggled and shoved the puppy closer. “Take her.” 

He studied the puppy, trying to disguise the bewilderment that bounced about in his mind. Jane wore an expression of pride, and he did not have the heart to ruin her satisfaction, so he took Evie and set her on his lap. The puppy squirmed as he stroked her head, mussing the fur between her ears. “Hello, Evie,” he said. 

Jane sat beside him and caressed the puppy’s ears. “It is a rare breed, not often found here.” 

He believed her; had never seen a dog like it. Evie’s whole face was almost entirely black, with a black stripe of fur that stretched from the top of her head to her tail. Along her sides, the black faded to a light brown. The fur on her legs and paws was all brown—the lightest shade. She was a beautiful animal. 

“It resembles a wolf, in a way,” he said, tracing the dark fur along Evie’s spine. Evie tried to twist about and nibble at his fingers. “But it differs in color. What breed is it?” 

“It is a German Shepherd,” she replied. “From Germany.” 

“Yes, that much seemed clear,” he teased, pulling his hand away from Evie’s mouth. 

Oddly, Jane did not recognize the jest. “You do not like her?”

“No, no,” he rushed to say. “It is only that I do not know—” He paused, hesitant. He looked from Evie to Jane, steadying the puppy in his lap and meeting Jane’s eyes with as much gentleness as he could. “You gave me this dog for why?” 

Her eyes fell to her lap, where she clasped her hands together. “With recruitment so low and resources even lower, I thought that perhaps you may be able to use an assistant,” she explained, raising her eyes to his. “Of sorts.” 

“An assistant?” 

“She is already trained,” she said, bursting off of the sofa and taking the dog with her. She set Evie on the floor and addressed her: “Evie, sit!” 

Evie tilted her head for a moment, but sat promptly. Then, in response to Jane’s command, lay down on the floor. Edmund remained unimpressed until Jane issued more complex demands. After she removed his bowler from the rack on the wall and told Evie to sniff it, she commanded the puppy to find the hat’s owner. Evie sniffed at Jane herself for a moment before she bounded toward Edmund, her too-large paws flopping on the carpet. A few sniffs of his trousers seemed to satisfy her, and Evie stood alert at Edmund’s feet, barking until Jane joined them and congratulated Evie on her performance. 

“See?” Jane said, her voice full of pride for the little pup. 

Edmund found himself impressed; he had not encountered a dog so young capable of such discipline. Unable to stifle a smile at both the puppy and Jane’s enthusiasm, he leaned down to pet Evie’s head. “Well, we must get you a badge and warrant card, Evie,” he said. “But I’m afraid we must start you off with a constable’s rank. I cannot be seen to show favoritism. I’m sure you understand.” 

The corner of one ear folded forward as Evie tilted her head. Her dark brown eyes moved from Edmund to Jane, as if she hoped for further explanation. 

“Perhaps when Evie has learned to detect explosives, she can be promoted,” Jane said.

Edmund’s head whipped about to stare at her in disbelief. “Can they do that?”

“Indeed. She has learned to identify gunpowder, but not dynamite. Her trainer expects her to master the task in a couple weeks.” 

“Weeks? Perhaps I should consider an entire canine division, if they learn that quickly.” As he watched Evie curl up at the foot of the sofa, he realized he had never thanked Jane for her thoughtfulness. Turning toward her, he took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. She will be a useful addition to H Division.” 

“And she is cute.”

“She is that, yes,” he conceded, then leaned toward Jane and kissed her cheek. She responded with a long, deep kiss to his mouth that would have continued but for Evie’s interference. 

After Christmas, when Edmund took Evie to Leman Street, his men lavished attention on her. And when Evie responded perfectly to each of his commands—even rooting out the pistol Thatcher hid in his desk drawer—Edmund was, he had to admit, rather pleased with himself and made a mental note to thank Jane all over again when he returned home. 


End file.
